


can anybody find me (somebody to love)

by bisexualeriklehnsherr



Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men: Apocalypse (2016) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Charles Being Concerned, Erik Has Feelings, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-06-09
Packaged: 2018-07-14 00:29:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7144799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bisexualeriklehnsherr/pseuds/bisexualeriklehnsherr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just because Erik leaves, it doesn’t mean that he stays away.</p><p>Erik comes back, because he can't afford to lose anyone else he loves. </p><p>Spoilers for X-Men: Apocalypse</p>
            </blockquote>





	can anybody find me (somebody to love)

**Author's Note:**

> Is this a fix-it? Let me know. I just really wanted to end the story right. 
> 
> Also both Erik and Charles are bisexual in my book, but like especially Erik.

Just because Erik leaves, it doesn’t mean that he stays away. He’d thought he’d lost everyone who meant anything to him. It’s not like he can picky about who he holds dear anymore. 

Charles is touched, nonetheless. Nearly two years after Charles watched him go, Erik walks through the mansion doors, sunglasses and leather shirt and still _so_ _tall._ Charles just beams, even as his own students try not to cower in fear. It would be so easy, for Charles to ease all their fear at once with a touch of his temple, but something tells him that Erik actually wants to earn their trust this time. Plus, they’ll figure out that Erik’s in a peace phase right now. 

“What brings you here?” Charles says, watching as Erik looks around, eyebrows raised, almost appraising.

“I was in the neighborhood,” Erik says, nonchalantly. “And I was curious.”

Charles spends a few seconds deducing Erik’s appearance. He walks with the same confidence, but it’s no longer tinged with grief. Charles is sure it’s still there, the never ending pain and misery that comes with losing someone (or two someones) close to you. It’s not surprising. Erik left because he needed time. What’s surprising is the suitcase that is perched on the floor to his left. Erik raises his eyebrows after a few moments and Charles realizes he has been incredibly rude.

“Right this way, then,” he says, blushing.  

 

It doesn’t take long for Charles to skip from talking about curriculum ( _ boring)  _ to actually talking about the mutants in training, which Charles still leaves in Raven’s and Hank’s very capable hands. He gets slightly apprehensive when Raven first sees Erik, but her amiable smiles to him don’t match the slight red tint her blue skin makes every time Hank gets close to her. 

Maybe Charles should tell Erik about the quiet, late night visits they have. A secret they had attempted to keep from Charles, to no avail. Then again, maybe that isn’t pertinent information to someone who doesn’t intend to stick around that long.

Anyway, Erik is fascinated. He listens attentively to every word both Raven and Hank say. It’s not long before Erik is giving pointers to Raven and helping Hank build a second fighter jet. It seems that teaching teens how to be violent in efficient and intelligent ways is his speciality. Building things out of metal is also his speciality.

Charles can’t help but stand aside and watch, more interested by Raven and Hank’s program than ever before. It reminds him of when Erik had helped Jean rebuild the mansion less than two years before. The easy efficiency and the dangerous whisper of hope had tinged Charles’ thoughts. Despite the large suitcase and Erik’s casual attitude, Charles’ feels like the rug will be pulled out from under his chair soon.

 

And yet, Erik  _ stays,  _ and honestly that’s all Charles has ever wanted. 

 

It’s so odd. One day Charles rolls out of his bedroom and realizes that Erik is still there, in the kitchen, having a quiet conversation with Jean. Charles can actually feel his mind, could  _ read  _ it and the pleasant hum that Erik’s mind gives off is so comforting, Charles doesn’t know how he’s gone for so long without it there. It’s never been this open before, so free from worry and paranoia.  

When Charles comes into the kitchen, Jean is laughing at a joke and Erik is already handing Charles his tea. There’s this unbelievable sense of routine and brings Charles back to days before life and death struggles, when he and Erik would go around searching for mutants that fascinated them and actually laughed together. When Erik would stay in the same room he is staying now, but fueled by completely different type of anger, not to mention a sense of revenge that could never be fulfilled.

He can’t say he doesn’t miss those days, except now Charles knows that Erik is stealing glances at him when he’s not looking. Before he’d had a mental fortress keeping everything and anything out of his mind. Now, Charles can feel everything he does. It makes him dizzy sometimes, being able to be even this close to Erik. To know that he can look up at a certain point, catch Erik watching him and be able to see his cheeks turn a shade of red, catching him off guard. He hadn’t thought it would ever get to this point again.

“Is everything alright?” Erik asks, looking down at him with worry. Wrinkles line his gray eyes, ones that weren’t there before. And yet, he looks younger somehow, no longer carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“I would love to take this tea to the study. Care to join me?” Erik just nods, and pushes Charles towards to the large room. It still both of their favorite places. Sometimes the most scintillating conversation can be done over a chessboard.

 

“I think there are some things we need to talk about,” Charles says as Erik closes the door. “Some logistics of you staying here.”

Erik only raises his eyebrows as he sits in the leather chair opposite Charles.

“I can’t say I know what you mean, Charles. I haven’t been getting in the way, have I?”

“No not at all!” Charles says, a little too hastily. “You’ve been a huge help to everyone. I suppose I want to know why you’ve decided to stay at all.”  

Erik shrugs, staring at the chessboard between them. Charles realizes that he is at a loss for words, something he hasn't been used to since Erik became good at giving persuasive speeches. 

“I wanted to stay, when you first asked me. I wanted to see how you would manage it. Teaching peace to kids while training an army. It fascinated me,” Erik coughs, “but I couldn’t, truly. I needed some time. To grieve, to remember what I had lost and— what I’d done.” 

Charles can feel everything Erik is saying. He’s projecting his grief, his guilt. There’s no way Charles could have absolved him of either, no matter how hard he would of tried. 

“One day, I was walking down the street, unrecognizable of course, and I saw a mother with her daughter. They reminded me of all the people I had lost,” Erik raises his eyes to meet Charles', "all I wanted was to be in the presence of the people I loved most. I felt I deserved that, at least.” 

Charles is crying, now, but Erik is stoic. His eyes have been dried for sometime, after many nights shed for those he’s lost. Charles can’t help it, he reaches forward and takes Erik’s hand. He brings it to his lips, lets it rest there. 

“Yes, you do deserve that. I’d always known you did.”

Erik looks down at their joined hands, then back at Charles’ own watery eyes.  

“I should’ve asked. I suppose I knew that I would always be welcome here, as a guest,” Erik laughs, and his cheeks are  _ red  _ again, that daft idiot. “I was never sure if you felt the same way, if  you would be willing welcome me as something more.”    

Charles laughs along with him and lays his hand on Erik’s cheek. It’s so easy, after that, for them to meet in the middle for a glorious kiss. One built up over twenty years. Charles’ tears stain Erik’s cheeks but _who cares_ because this is the closest they’ve ever been and they’ve wasted _so much_ _time_.

 

After the children are safe and asleep, Charles takes Erik to his room and to his bed. Erik’s a patient and attentive lover, as Charles had known he would be. They make love, once, twice. Afterwards, Charles lays on Erik’s bare chest, dozing in a post-sex haze. He lifts his chin and looks Erik in his tired eyes, smiles.   

“It was love,” Charles states, and when Erik tilts his head in question, “it was love that brought you back to us.” Erik only chuckles and continues tracing patterns down Charles’ back.

“Who knew I would become soft with age?”

“I sure as hell didn’t,” Erik’s bark of laughter is thrillingly loud in the quiet room. “But I’d hoped.”   

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I figured I should probably start writing Erik/Charles fic after amassing so many bookmarks in their name (check it out if you have the time). Thanks for taking the time to read this and leave a comment, if you want. 
> 
> Check me out @ bisexualeriklehnsherr.tumblr.com


End file.
